by Eric Payne
My wife sometimes jokes with me that it must be hard to carrying around all the grudges I have against her and all the other people who’ve ever offended me. I usually say, “No they’re on the floor beneath my seat. You can’t see them? They’re the large stone tablets with the writing in blood?” We laugh and move on.
Sometimes she’s not joking at all. Although grudges have no place in marriage, this doesn’t mean they don’t exist.
Webster’s defines grudge as both a noun and a verb. As a noun, a grudge is “a feeling of deep-seated resentment or ill will.” As a Christian I was taught, “Revenge is Mine.” God was doing the speaking in this instance. I was also taught that God will cast my “sins away into a sea of forgetfulness.” I was supposed to take from this that if God, being as big and mighty as He is, is able to forgive and forget, then surely, I can. Surely, I must.
Easier said than done when there’s no time limit on hurt and no depth to how far an emotional wound can reach. Offenses typically cut deeper when administered by close friends and loved ones. It is inevitable that this will occur in a marriage relationship where two people are in such close proximity to one another and vulnerabilities are on display 24/7.
As a verb, Webster’s defines grudge as “unwilling to yield.” This is in direct contradiction to marriage, a contract rooted in compromise — hopefully for the good of both. But when a grudge is involved there’s hardly enough room to consider the well-being of a relationship. One typically views their partner as the source of what’s wrong, not the way toward a solution.
Unconditional love is the aim of those in love, but unconditional love is an elusive thing. It is the substance of forgiveness and that which forgets all offenses. It sees the bigger picture, hating the offense, but not the offender. Unfortunately, unconditional love is reserved primarily for our children and parents. Who knows how smooth and strong love truly could be if we had the mercy for one another that we have for our kids and parents?
When a grudge match erupts between married folks, most times the offender isn’t even aware of what they’ve done wrong because the person holding the grudge either hasn’t communicated the offense or communicated that they haven’t gotten over the offense. Sometimes it’s both. Without communication, a grudge will only grow stronger and more toxic. If communication with a partner initially proves to be too difficult then counselors, pastors and mentors are alternative options. Eventually however a grudge must be exposed in order to be overcome.
Webster’s also provides a synonym for the noun, grudge: malice. Malice is a very strong word. But an offense, neither forgiven nor forgotten, can begin as a subtle irritation and fester and grow until it gives birth to this, along with revenge and tumult. Ever met a divorcing couple that is able to angrily fire off everything that’s wrong but can’t tell you how it started? It’s not pretty. No one wins a grudge match.
Eric Payne lives with his wife and kids just outside of New York City and writes about married life and fatherhood at MakesMeWannaHoller.com. He also writes a fatherhood column at MochaManual.com. He is the author of I See Through Eyes, a book of poetry and short stories. His short fiction has appeared in Spindle Magazine and DiddleDog Magazine.
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